Page 2 of Shadow of Fury

It was his father.

His very much alive, still breathing, father.

Byron Kemp, after everything he’d done, managed to smile at the sight of his only son standing on his doorstep, “Logan, my boy. It’s good to see you.”

A fury so intense it felt as if every molecule of blood in his veins was boiling ripped through Logan. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Couldn’t believe he had come all this way, only to find out that Dominic had lied to him. His friend had told him Byron was dead and yet here he stood, on his own two feet, under his own power.

It was a good thing Dominic wasn’t the one standing in front of him, he decided, because the urge to punch his old friend in the face, repeatedly, was overwhelming.

Logan’s hands balled into fists at his sides, “I wish I could say the same but I was really hoping the next time I saw you, that you’d be in a casket.”

The old man chuckled and then let out a sputtering cough that nearly doubled him over. Vivian stepped forward and Logan was about to reach for her, to keep himself between her and their father, but she seemed to catch herself first. She stopped beside him, standing shoulder to shoulder in a show of solidarity and Logan wished that he’d told her to wait in the car until he’d figured out what was going on here.

Their father hadn’t even glanced at his daughter. He hadn’t welcomed her home or opened his arms to her. He’d acted as if she wasn’t even there and Logan knew that his lack of acknowledgement was meant to cut Vivian down to size, just as he knew that despite his sister’s blank expression their father’s indifference hit its intended target.

Logan watched through barely contained hatred as his father got control of the coughing fit and tried to regain his composure. The big, intimidating man he had known looked mostly the same as he remembered but signs of illness were there once he looked more closely.

Byron’s eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. He was thinner too, his cheeks sunken in, giving him a skeletal appearance. His skin had a strange, gray pallor to it once the pinkness from lack of oxygen during his coughing fit waned. He looked sickly, that was true, but he was still alive, despite what Dominic had said.

“My apologies for still breathing.” Byron wiped at his mouth with a handkerchief. “But if it’s any reassurance at all, I’m sure it won’t be for much longer.”

“This isn’t funny.” Logan growled.

“I’m quite aware of that, after all, I’m the one that’s dying.”

“And yet you’re still lying.” Logan countered as realization dawned on him. “You had Dominic call and tell me you were dead. Not dying. Dead. You knew that was the only way you would ever get me back here.”

“Why you’re home doesn’t matter, son. I need you here. The pack needs you here. Now, come inside. I’m sure your mother would love to see you both and then we can talk like civilized men.”

Logan scrubbed a hand over his jaw and stepped backwards, “No. There’s nothing you could say that I want to hear. Maybe if you’d changed, maybe if you wanted to take responsibility for your actions, but having Dominic call and lie to me is all the proof I need that you’re still the same selfish, manipulative asshole you’ve always been.”

“Logan…” His father’s jaw clenched but Logan turned on his heel to walk away. Behind him he heard his father’s voice soften, “Vivian, please. If your brother won’t grant a dying man’s wish and come inside to talk, maybe you can convince him to do it for your mother. We’re mates after all. What do you think this illness is doing to her?”

Logan was halfway back to his vehicle when his father’s words registered and he wanted to scream. His vision blurred but he forced back the tears that wanted to come. Six years had passed but less than six minutes in his father’s presence and he felt like that wayward boy again, lost and confused. He hated the feeling, just as he hated his father. He was so focused on his fury that when a hand landed on his shoulder he spun around with his clenched fists raised on instinct.

“Logan, wait.” Vivian held her hands up and he instantly deflated at the fear he saw mirrored in the eyes that looked so much like his own.

“Viv.” He winced, horrified by his own violent reaction. “I’m sorry. I would never…”

“I know.” She wrapped her arms around him and Logan pulled her into his arms and hung on to her like a lifeline. “I know you would never hurt me.”

“Never.” He closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry we ever came back here. This is just another of his twisted mind games. We can go. We can leave again and…”

She pulled back from his hug to look up at him, eyes watery with unshed tears of her own, and Logan felt like she’d punched him in the gut when she shook her head, “I don’t want to leave again. Not yet.”

“Viv…” He frowned.

“He said Mom is sick too, that the bond between them means they’re both dying.” She sighed. “I need to see her for myself. I need to talk to her. I can’t leave until I do. I owe her that.”

“You don’t owe her anything.”

“He’s the monster, Logan. Not her. She was forced to live with him, same as us, but she couldn’t escape.”

Logan grit his teeth, wanting to tell Vivian all the things he’d never been able to say, but the tightness in his throat kept the words at bay. He growled with disgust. He should have tried to tell her the truth before coming home. If he had, if he’d at least tried to tell her and the words were still stuck inside of him, he would have known his father wasn’t dead.

“I know you don’t want to stay here and I’m not asking you to. Go and find Dominic. Make sure he’s okay. I’m guessing Dad used his Alpha voice to force him to call you. He likely had no choice in it, just like Mom doesn’t.”

That was just like his sister to be one step ahead of him. She’d already thought of the way their father could wield his power with nothing but his words. Dominic wouldn’t have lied to him without being manipulated into it. He had proven his loyalty to Logan time and again and he deserved the benefit of the doubt.

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